


The Opposite of a Hardship

by Taste_is_Sweet



Series: Don't Lick Winter Iron Or Your Tongue Will Freeze [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And a boyfriend, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Because it is psychologically necessary okay, Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Civil War Fix-It, Cuddling, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Gratuitous Kitten References, Guilt, Happy Ending, Hugs, Lots of Cuddling, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Touch-Starved, Tumblr: imaginetonyandbucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 02:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15133562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_is_Sweet/pseuds/Taste_is_Sweet
Summary: For this anonymous prompt from the Imagine Tony and Bucky Comm on Tumblr:"70 years of freezing has bucky be quite touch starved and tactile. He loves hugging tony, making out with tony, carrying tony."Bucky bites his lip, which would be more fetching if he didn't look so horrifically distressed. Not to mention he still can barely meet Tony's eyes. "Could you…." He closes his eyes, then takes an obviously fortifying breath. "Could you…stay with me? Please?" His voice is barely a whisper, weighted with shame. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't ask. But. Could you stay?"





	The Opposite of a Hardship

**Author's Note:**

> I'm afraid the fic may not have ended up being quite as tactile as the anonymous prompter probably wanted. I hope they like it anyway. ♥
> 
> * * *
> 
> This is my fourth Winter Iron fic, and the only one so far that isn't a soulmate AU. I save the song lyric titles for the soulmate fics, which is why this story doesn't follow that pattern.
> 
> #CompletelyVitalInformation
> 
> * * *
> 
> The way Tony and Steve were characterized in _Captain America: Civil War_ made me sad. Aside from this story, I've tried to reconcile what they did with how I perceive them in my [The War Between Us](https://archiveofourown.org/series/757449) series, and in the fic [More Than Enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11118678).
> 
> I really love these characters, and I tried to be as fair to each of them as possible here. I hope you like the result. ♥
> 
> (TL;DR: You will pry Tony and Steve's broship out of my cold, dead hands. xD)

Tony doesn't notice it at first. Probably not the second or third time either, if he's being honest. In his defense, it's because it's Bucky. Tony has far more reasons to ignore Bucky than to actually pay attention to him.

It's not Bucky's fault. Tony can admit that now, a few self-aware, painful months down the line. It's not even Steve's, though it sure as fuck started with him. Not that Tony can't take credit where credit is due. He saw Steve's lie by omission and raised him attempted murder.

Of course, Tony had a really, really fucking bad couple days. He'd tried to do the right thing for once, clean up the mess he created in Sokovia. And all that'd happened was Steve going full vigilante and Ross turning into the fucking Red Queen with his own Wonderland in the middle of the ocean. And then Tony found out that Colonel Zemo blew up the United Nations just to get to him and Steve. More deaths on Tony's conscience, not to mention the guilt and humiliation of having bought Zemo's lies so completely.

Tony's supposed to be a genius, and yet he had no trouble agreeing that Barnes was the culprit, despite the complete lack of motivation and the circumstances making no sense. That stung a bit, especially with all his good intentions crashing around him like Novi Grad.

He was prepared to make amends with his buddy Steve, kick Zemo and his Suicide Squad's ass and take names. Maybe get to know Barnes a little better afterwards. Because holy fuck he was gorgeous, even lank and sweaty and looking exactly like the Black Panther beat the shit out of him.

Not to mention that Howard had been a fan, even if he'd loved Cap a lot more. So Tony maybe might've had a crush on the guy, after years of hearing about how smart and charming he was. Not to mention how he was into science and engineering. And maybe that crush never went away. And maybe Tony was pretty damn happy Bucky and Steve were just friends.

And then he found out that the Winter Soldier killed his parents. And Steve had known all along but never told him.

So, yeah. Really bad few days. Tony knows he had all kinds of right to be enraged. He will never regret that backhand to Steve's face, because Steve damn well deserved it. But still. Some nights he can't sleep for the cold sweat, thinking about what he could've done. How he almost killed an innocent man, just because Bucky made a convenient target.

What else could Tony do after that blood-drenched fiasco, but have the Accords put down like the misbegotten hellspawn they were? Then he pulled every string he could find to get Steve and his merry band of idiots pardoned for their heroic stupidity, plus getting Bucky fully exonerated and reinstated as Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. With full backpay, because he fucking earned it.

He would've made Bucky a new arm too, if the Princess of Wakanda hadn't already been on it. Tony's ego isn't so fragile that he can't recognize superior tech, and he was blown away by Shuri's genius when she was kind enough to send him the specs. Bucky's hand was in good hands, so to speak. Tony's happy for him. Bucky deserved the best prosthetic possible to replace that piece of Soviet-era crap, and Tony couldn't have done better.

Bucky also deserved to not have to worry about turning into a murderbot again, which Shuri fixed too. Tony was thrilled for him that she figured out how to strip the trigger words from his mind. Tony would have used his B.A.R.F., and it probably would've worked, but it would've meant Bucky had to relive whatever memories activated the triggers. Tony already hurt Bucky enough; he was just as happy that Shuri did it while Bucky was still in Cryo, so he slept through the entire thing.

While Bucky was being de-winterized, Steve apologized for being a dick and lying by omission. In return, Tony apologized for being a homicidal asshole and trying to go through him to murder his buddy. They're still finding their way around each other, but it's getting better.

It helps that Tony and Steve (and Bucky) are under the same roof—the roof belonging to the Tower. Because as soon as Bucky was royally declared rearmed (hah) and fit for human consumption, Tony offered Steve and Bucky a place of their own: in the Tower, the Facility, or, fuck, wherever else they wanted to go, courtesy of Stark Industries. Because Tony figures that when it comes to apologies, go big or go home.

He never actually expected them to take him up on the offer, though. And he definitely didn't expect them to choose Avengers Tower as opposed to literally any place on the planet that was away from him. But Steve said Bucky wanted to be in New York, and he chose the Tower over an apartment in Brooklyn because the Tower could be locked down.

Genius that he is, Tony never realized Bucky didn't mean locked down from bad guys getting _in._ He meant locked down so he couldn't get _out._

Because even after a couple months in Wakanda's kinder, gentler meat locker getting his mind scrubbed clean, Bucky still couldn't sleep at night unless he knew for sure he wouldn't be able to unintentionally hurt anyone.

Tony doesn't find out until Bucky's in New York for about a month, after Steve tells him one night when he's pacing the common floor, too fraught over his friend's sorrow to sleep. And then Tony remembers how telling Bucky about the Hulk Room was the first and only time he's seen him smile.

Tony immediately revamps J.A.R.V.I.S.'s lockdown protocols so he can isolate and secure each and every floor individually. Not because Tony thinks it's necessary, but he knows what it's like to lie awake with your mind spinning in gruesome possibilities. He sends the new protocols to Bucky and Steve with the message, **You Are Safe.**

The next day Tony finds a hand-drawn picture of him in the Iron Man suit. It's not quite as good as what Steve can do, but it's close. There's a sticky note stuck to the counter next to it, with **Thanks** written on it. The picture is signed _Bucky_.

Tony has it framed and puts it in his workshop, because that's where he'll see it the most. And he leaves a note in the kitchen saying **Thank you,** with a little drawing of the armor giving Bucky a thumbs up.

He still barely sees Bucky, but somehow the messages become a thing. Tony will find sticky notes— **You should go to bed earlier** or **What's this noodle thing called? It's great** —or Bucky will leave zipperlocked baggies of cookies or muffins with Tony's name on them. Occasionally Bucky leaves the notepad with little doodles all over it. He likes drawing Steve as a cartoon puppy and Tony as a cat.

So, recap: Tony tried to kill a fundamentally decent, innocent former POW, who he continues to have a crush on. A former POW who is now free, officially retired from the military, and rich. And living under Tony's roof. At least Tony is fairly certain he is, because he doesn't see him much. Bucky spends a lot of time on his and Steve's floor, or down in the gym, or taking daylong walks as he relearns the city. And of course occasionally leaving Tony notes and baked goods like a Keebler elf.

Tony starts leaving him notes in return— **Why aren't you in bed?** and **Mee Soto Udang. J.A.R.V.I.S. can tell you where to get it** —and then little gifts of his own for the cookies and sweetbreads: a handful of mints from the bowl on the conference table; an origami flower he forgot he knew how to make; a small package of pencils Steve says are the best for drawing. A few days later, Tony finds three pictures of him in the suit, stacked neatly on the counter. In the last one he has the faceplate up, and he's smiling. Tony hangs those in his workshop too.

Once in a while, Tony thinks they might be friends. He doesn't ask, though. He's not about to write Bucky a 'Do You Like Me?' note like they're in middle school, and he hasn't seen Bucky in person for long enough to have an actual conversation.

Not that he would. He'd rather not talk to Bucky anyway. He tried to kill him, what the hell could he possibly _say?_

He doesn't say anything. But at some point, without Tony noticing, the notes get longer.

From Bucky: **I hate going to bed, because I wake up screaming or fighting so often. Steve always ends up waking me, so he barely sleeps those nights either. I don't even know how often I've come up swinging and nearly taken his head off. But if I go to bed in the early morning, it's not so bad. You need more sleep than I do, though. What's your excuse?**

From Tony: **Ever have those nights when you know your brain's just waiting to fuck with you the second you close your eyes? Multiply that by, I don't know, forever, and that's me. It's easier to stay in the workshop. At least I can accomplish something that way. But I have a couch there. I'll try to sleep, just for you. :P**

From Bucky: **I wish I didn't make Steve so sad. He wants me to be okay, but I'm not. I don't know if I'm ever going to be okay again. I know he's not trying to make me feel bad that I don't always want to laugh or joke the way I used to. But sometimes it's hard to talk to him, because anytime I mention what Hydra did it upsets him so badly. I try to just talk about the good stuff, but even the good memories lead to bad ones. Hydra fucked me up so bad, sometimes it feels like there's nothing inside me that they didn't turn into something disgusting.**

**I just hate making him so sad. It's like all I ever do is hurt him.**

**I'm glad you're trying to sleep. One of us should.**

From Tony: **He's hurting because he loves you and he can't make it better. That doesn't mean he doesn't want to hear about it. Pepper—my ex, but we're still friends—would cry when I told her about Afghanistan (ask Steve. Or, don't bother. Just imagine a ~~Mr. Rogers Neighborhood~~ kindergarten version of what you went through. Mr. Rogers wasn't about Steve, btw), but she still wanted to hear it. She was crying in sympathy, and rage on my behalf, and how she hadn't been able to do anything. No one even knew where I was.**

**Trust me, Steve wants to know what happened to you. Everything you can handle telling him. And let him be sad, or hurt, or angry or whatever. It was fucking sad, and painful, and enraging. You don't have to be the only one who has to feel all that shit about it.**

**I probably just gave you a ton of useless advice. Feel free to ignore all of it.**

And from Bucky: **Thanks.**

Tony loses track of how many times he pulls over the notepad and almost writes an apology. He apologized to Steve about the fight already, sure. But Tony hasn't actually seen Bucky face-to-face for long enough to be able to get the words out. And writing, 'I'm really, really sorry I almost killed you' doesn't seem like it'd cut it. Even if Tony really, really is.

Steve, at least, Tony sees all the time, whenever he's not with his BFF. Steve smiles at Tony a lot these days, and seems to go out of his way to talk to him.

Tony is happy to run with it. He missed Steve. He missed their friendship and easy conversations, and teasing each other and knowing above all they'd have each-others' back in a fight. He thinks they almost have that again, which is awesome.

He just wishes he could have that with Bucky, but he doesn't know how to get there. He doesn't even know if Bucky's ever forgiven him for Tony almost killing him and blowing his arm off. And Tony still hasn't apologized for it. Not in words, anyway, and not to Bucky's face.

Tony's aware that it's kind of cowardly, but it's easier this way. They have their notes and drawings and presents, and Tony doesn't have to know for sure that he can never make things right.

* * *

And then, Steve has to go on some diplomatic, star-spangled world tour thing, making nice after the miserable failure of the Accords. Tony is also asked to go, if 'asked' means 'ordered in no uncertain terms'. But Tony's a civilian, thanks, and he has obligations to Stark Industries' CEO and shareholders. He can't just jet off at a moment's notice and be gone for three weeks at a time.

Well he _can,_ but he doesn't want to. Luckily Pepper is the best ex-girlfriend ever and more than happy to schedule enough board meetings to make it impossible to leave the city for more than two minutes at a time. Of course, Tony has to actually attend them, so Ross doesn't get the wrong idea. But it's still better than being paraded around like a trophy spouse while Ross grins in self-appreciation.

It's also pretty sweet that getting to work literally means going a few floors down, so it's not like he has to worry about traffic. And if Tony gets off the elevator five floors early to pass through the communal kitchen to see if Bucky's left him a note…well, stair climbing is good exercise.

So, Tony actually starts seeing Bucky more often, which makes sense since Steve's not there to entertain him. The first couple times it startles the hell out of him, but then he gets used to it and goes back to the comfortable smile-and-wave and not much else.

That's why Tony doesn't notice anything's off, the first few times he sees Bucky. Because he's not actually looking at him.

There's not much to see, anyway. It's just…Bucky. All six foot, handsome as hell feet of him, sitting curled at one end of the couch wrapped in a fleece blanket. And that's all he's doing: sitting on the couch in a blanket. The first couple times Tony checks to see if the TV is on, just at a volume too low for mortal ears. It's not, but, okay. So Bucky's wrapped in a blanket staring into space. Each to their own. Tony's not going to worry about it.

But it keeps happening. And it keeps happening. And by the fourth time in as many days Tony finds Bucky like that, he can't help himself; He gets worried about it. He gets really worried about it. Bucky looks like hell, actually, now that Tony's paying attention. He's pale—more pale, scarily pale—with shadows like abstract art prints under his bloodshot, haunted eyes. And then there's the huddled in the blanket thing, like a little kid after a nightmare.

It would be easier just to ignore it, but something's obviously wrong. Tony can't keep leaving him like that.

Tony stays in the kitchen long enough to drink a big glass of water, then gets one for Bucky. He goes quietly back into the living room and puts it down near him on the coffee table. 

Bucky's eyes dart to it, then up to Tony. He draws a little further into himself, which Tony does his best to assume isn't personal. "Hi," he says, quietly like he's trying not to disturb anyone.

"Hey." Tony stands on the far side of the coffee table with his hands in his suit pockets, the image of nonthreatening. "How are you doing? You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Bucky gives a bumping little nod, as if that proves it.

"Sure. You're fine," Tony says, grimacing amicably. "Funny thing, though. You don't look fine. You look cold. Are you cold? Because I'm finding it pleasantly warm in here, but J.A.R.V.I.S. will change the temperature if you ask him. The water's for you, by the way. I thought you might be thirsty."

"Oh. Thanks." Bucky lets go of the blanket to grab the glass, then drains it in a few quick swallows. Tony has the sudden, unwelcome realization that he has no idea how long Bucky's been here, or how long he's been here every time, wrapped up and staring at nothing.

Bucky puts the empty glass on the table, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. For a moment it looks like he's going to reach for Tony, but then he yanks his hand back and bundles up again. He's also having a lot of trouble looking Tony in the face, as if he's afraid of what Tony will see.

Well, no one ever said Tony could take a hint. "So, what's up, buttercup? What was America's Cutest War Hero doing while I was nosing the grindstone and all that jazz?"

"I'm not a hero," Bucky says.

"But at least you admit you're cute," Tony says. He's sure his smile is a little tight, but it's hard to avoid since he's gritting his teeth. He doesn't bother arguing the 'hero' part. Bucky wants to shut him down? Fine. Let him try. Tony's going to make sure Bucky's okay if it kills them both. "What have you been doing today? I had two meetings in a row and I didn't even stab anyone, so I'm feeling pretty proud of myself."

Bucky sucks in a breath and manages to squish himself even further into the corner of the couch. Tony's a little concerned he's going to upend it like the _Titanic_. And then it belatedly occurs to him that casual murder was probably a bad choice for a joke.

"I didn't do anything," Bucky says, now resolutely staring at the kitchen. "I'm just waiting 'til Steve gets back."

"Oh," Tony says. Then he blinks. "You mean, like, nothing? Nothing at all? You've been sitting here like this _all day?_ That's…." _Sad; Scary; Weird; Uncomfortable_ "Strange."

Bucky shrugs, but he swallows and looks away. More away. "Nothing much to do."

"Well, if you're looking for extracurricular activities, Lefty, I got a whole workshop you could play around in. Anytime. Just let me know," Tony says, all casual. He lets people hang out in his workshop all the time. Yep.

Bucky's big, stormy eyes snap back to Tony's and he kind of goes deer-in-headlights for a second, and then is resolutely interested in the patch of couch just beyond his bundled feet. "It's okay, thanks."

Tony stands there, hands still in his pockets and rocking a bit on his heels, wondering what the hell's actually going on and what the hell he's supposed to do about it. "You do know what you're doing isn't remotely normal, right?"

That at least gets Bucky's eyes back to Tony's face. "That's kinda' rich, coming from you."

Well, that fucking stings. Which is stupid, because objectively Bucky's right. Tony is not, nor has he ever been, the poster boy for 'normal'. Whatever that actually is. But that doesn't mean he appreciates it being thrown at him like that. Especially by someone he was trying to help.

"Well, fuck you very much, Barnes," he says with a smile full of polite teeth. "I'll leave you to your nothing. Have a nice evening." He starts walking towards the stairs. Running up five flights sounds like a great idea right now.

"Wait!"

Tony stops, debates with himself for all of a nanosecond before he turns around. Because it's Bucky and who is he kidding? "What?"

Bucky bites his lip, which would be more fetching if he didn't look so horrifically distressed. Not to mention he still can barely meet Tony's eyes. "Could you…." He closes his eyes, then takes an obviously fortifying breath. "Could you…stay with me? Please?" His voice is barely a whisper, weighted with shame. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't ask. But. Could you stay?"

He doesn't know if Bucky's apologizing for being a bit of a dick just now, or for wanting Tony to stay with him. Sadly, he's pretty sure it's the latter.

"Yeah, of course." Tony toes off his shoes and pushes them under the coffee table, then sheds his suit jacket and tie and leaves them on the closest chair. Finally he undoes his cuffs and the top couple buttons of his shirt. Bucky's gaze fastens on Tony's collarbones for a second before it darts away again. Tony's not going to even pretend it means anything, but it'd be nice if it did.

When he's as comfortable as he's going to get in office clothes, Tony sits down on the far end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

"If you want," Bucky says.

"Oh. Okay. J, cue up _Lord of the Rings_. Live action version. Not the director's cut," Tony says, before his mind goes blank and he does something stupid like ask for _Saving Private Ryan._ He doesn't _think_ Frodo et al will upset Bucky unduly but he doesn't know how to ask without sounding condescending. Hopefully Bucky will let him know if there's a problem.

Hopefully there won't be a problem, considering how miserable Bucky looks already. If anything, he seems more upset than when Tony sat down. He keeps glancing at Tony and then away, as if he wants to say something but won't.

"What's wrong?" Tony asks when he finally can't handle it anymore, which is about two minutes into the concise history of the entire fucking Tolkien universe. He almost says, _I'm not going to hurt you_ but bites it back. It's not like Bucky wouldn't know that; The one time Tony fought him without the armor he lost. Decisively.

Of course, that wasn't actually _Bucky_ he was fighting at the time. Bucky hadn't even been there. Tony finally understood that when he went through the Siberian missile silo's files, a few days after the implosion that had been his life.

But, it's pointless for Tony to say he's not going to hurt him. Bucky knows Tony's not going to hurt him.

Not that Bucky _looks_ like he knows Tony's not going to hurt him. He looks a lot more like he's expecting Tony to whale on him any minute, but he's planning on taking it like a man.

"Nothing's wrong," Bucky rasps, which might be more believable if Bucky wasn't still studiously avoiding Tony's eyes.

Tony lets out a breath that puffs his cheeks. He promises himself he'll give Bucky another ten minutes of whatever this is, and then he'll bail. The last thing he wanted was for Bucky to be more upset. But somehow his presence is just making things worse.

He's morosely thinking that Elijah Wood's eyes are almost as pretty as Bucky's, when the eponymous owner of those pretty eyes makes a tiny, awful noise, like he's trying not to start weeping.

Tony knows what holding back a sob sounds like. He's made those exact noises himself, on more occasions than he wants to think about. He's perplexed and sympathetic, since there's nothing happening on the screen that's particularly heart-rendering.

But when Tony takes a stealthy glance in Bucky's direction, Bucky's not watching the movie. He's bundled himself so tightly in the blanket Tony's surprised he's not dying of heat prostration. And he's taking those terrible hitching breaths, like he's trying to be silent but his misery is just too much too contain.

Tony has a very brief internal struggle, weighing Bucky's dignity versus Tony's vicarious embarrassment versus Bucky's _fucking mental agony_ and tells J.A.R.V.I.S. to stop the film.

"Bucky?" Tony moves as close to him as he dares. "Bucky, what's happening? What's wrong?" He hesitates, thinking of Bucky's one-person blanket fort, but then puts his hand on Bucky's shoulder, just trying to offer some comfort.

Bucky gasps and goes still.

"Sorry!" Tony whips his hand back, kicking himself. As if Bucky would want to be touched by _the man who blew off his arm—_

But, "No!" Bucky shouts, voice full of desperation. And then he drops the blanket and all but pounces on Tony, pulling him into his arms.

"Uh." Admittedly, the last thing Tony expected was Bucky hugging him, let alone a hug that's so…thorough. He's kind of engulfed, with Bucky's head on his shoulder. And the truth is, Tony's had more than the occasional fantasy about being in Bucky's arms. But none of them had Bucky sobbing in such emotional pain, or his hands trembling where they're fisted in the back of Tony's shirt.

"What's going on, Bucky?" Tony asks softly.

Bucky just shakes his head. He's shivering, like he's cold without the stupid blanket. His breath is still shuddering in and out of his lungs, but otherwise he's rigidly still. Tony can feel tears soaking his shoulder. It reminds him unhappily of his own childhood, hiding in his bedroom or his dorm, crying as quietly as he could so no one would know.

"It's okay," Tony says, even though Bucky is definitely not okay. He rubs Bucky's back, random patterns over the tense rack of his spine. "I feel like I shouldn't be able to count your vertebrae through your clothes," he says, frowning. "Are you eating enough?"

He's a little surprised when Bucky answers, even if it's just another headshake. He snuffles, then swallows audibly. "I'm sorry," he rasps. "I'm grateful, for everything. I am. I just…." His voice trails into nothing. 

"It's okay, I'm not angry," Tony says, because the last thing he expected was Bucky apologizing for not eating, like he's starving himself out of spite. He doesn't even want to touch the gratitude part, so he ignores it. "I'm a little worried, though." And shocked as hell Bucky is clinging to him. Tony gets any port in a storm, but surely Bucky can't be that hard up. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

"I'm sorry," Bucky says again. "I know I got no right to ask you for anything—" His voice cracks into another of those tiny hitch-sobs, and Tony has the rabidly unwelcome realization that Bucky's at the end of his rope. In fact, he's probably so far at the end of his rope there's not enough of it left to make a knot and hang on. "I'm sorry," he creaks. "I don't…I don't know what's wrong with me."

Tony thinks he might. "Has this been since Steve left?"

Bucky swallows, then nods. "Yeah." He pulls in a breath. "I feel sick. Cold, like I just got out of Cryo. It hurts. My joints hurt."

Well, that's new and exciting. The Super Soldiers run hot, but Bucky doesn't feel like he has a fever. He's still shivering, though. Tony manages to snag the blanket and pull it around Bucky's shoulders. "How have you been sleeping?"

Bucky's response is a strangled laugh tapdancing on the edge of hysteria. "I haven't slept since a couple nights after Steve left."

" _What?_ " Tony tries to pull back to properly gape at him, because Steve left _two weeks ago, what the fuck?_ but Bucky makes a noise like a hurt kitten so Tony doesn't move. "Are you seriously telling me you haven't slept for _two fucking weeks?_ "

"Yeah," Bucky says. "S'okay. I've gone longer."

"Jesus Christ," Tony breathes. "You should be in Medical, doped to the gills and sleeping, like, 100 hours straight. What the fuck are you doing here?"

That makes Bucky snap his head up. His eyes are wet and huge "I don't want to go to Medical. I don't…. No doctors. Please. I'm not…. I'll stay on Steve's floor. I won't bother anyone, okay? Just, please. No doctors…!"

Tony's pretty sure Bucky would be less freaked out if he wasn't so exhausted he could barely see, but now is not the time to urge rationality. "Whoa, whoa. Calm down, it's okay. No doctors. We're not going to Medical. We're staying here, all right? We're staying right here."

Bucky relaxes with a shaky sigh. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize, buttercup." Tony carefully tucks Bucky's head back against his shoulder. "But, you need to sleep. And eat. You're going to collapse if you don't. Does Steve know about this? That you can't sleep if he's not with you?" J.A.R.V.I.S. could contact Steve, let him know Bucky's in dire straights and needs him home ASAP. "Do you want him to come home? Steve would probably be thrilled for the excuse to bail, honestly. You'd be doing him a favor." 

"No!" Tony feels Bucky's vehement headshake. "No. Please. Steve doesn't know. I don't…. He's already so upset, 'cause of me. He doesn't need more of my problems. Please, don't tell him!"

"Okay, okay. I won't. I won't tell Steve." Tony rubs Bucky's back some more. "I don't think you can go on like this, though. He won't be home for at least another week." Tony moves his hands from Bucky's back, trying to gently disengage. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Bucky makes the hurt kitten noise and holds Tony tighter. "Don't let go. Please don't let go. Don't leave."

"Hey, hey. I'm not leaving! I'm not leaving, okay? Bucky. Bucky, look at me." Tony waits until Bucky reluctantly lifts his head. "I have to let go, but I'm _not leaving._ I'm going to the kitchen, that's all. I will literally be back in 30 seconds or less. I promise. I'm not leaving you, Bucky. I swear, I'm just going to the kitchen."

"Please, Tony," Bucky says. "I'm sorry. I…I can't—"

"It's all right," Tony says quickly. "I'll stay. I won't let go. But, you need food. And I'm not sure how…" He stops, blinking. "Oh. I'm an idiot. What if you carry me there?"

That gets him the second smile he's ever seen on Bucky Barnes' face. And then Bucky hugs him tight again and stands up. He lifts Tony with him like Tony weighs less than your average three year old, his metal arm under Tony's butt and his flesh and blood one across Tony's back.

Grabbing stuff out of the fridge and cupboards while being carried is, in a word, ridiculous. It's also kind of fun. Bucky shifts Tony to his hip like a harried parent, and Tony forages. He gets peanut butter and jam, a sliced loaf of bread, a bottle of water, four protein shakes in assorted flavors, and then four bananas without faceplanting into the fruit bowl. Bucky gets two plates and a couple knives. 

Bucky is not quite laughing by the time they get back to the couch. The pockets of his cargo pants are full of bottles, jars and bananas, his arms full of Tony with the bread dangling from his metal hand. Tony's carrying the plates and spreading knives, with a roll of paper towels tucked under one arm. Tony isn't laughing either, but he does have a big, stupid grin on his face.

When he sits down, Bucky puts Tony so close to him that he's practically in Bucky's lap. They have their impromptu dinner like that: watching the _Lord of the Rings_ while Bucky drinks the protein shakes and they make peanut butter, jam and banana sandwiches. Tony has the water and two sandwiches. Bucky eats six of them before he says he's full.

He looks a lot better after getting some food in him. He's still exhausted, but less grey and shaky. The tension has mostly eased out of him too, though Tony suspects that's their proximity rather than the calories.

As soon as his hands are empty, Bucky puts his arms around Tony and pulls him even closer. Tony worms his arm between Bucky's back and the couch, and is rewarded by Bucky's soft, contented sigh.

It's nice. Better than nice. It's actually pretty much what Tony's dreamed about since Steve and Bucky moved into the Tower: Him and Bucky doing simple, everyday domestic things; Tony having Bucky in his arms. Tony would like more than this—a lot more—but Bucky even wanting Tony near him is so unexpected it's practically a miracle.

Well, 'want' is probably too big a word. Tony happened to be here when Bucky was having his breakdown, that's all. Any port in a storm. But Tony's not too noble to take what he can get. Hell, Tony's not noble at all. If he were, he wouldn't be thinking so hard about turning his head just enough to press his lips to the corner of Bucky's mouth. Bucky recently rediscovered the joys of shaving, so the skin around it would be smooth against Tony's goatee. Bucky's lips are a lush, ripe pink like candy. Tony would love to taste them, then lick his way inside. Taste the rest of Bucky's mouth too.

Yeah, no nobility there.

Tony does have enough self-restraint not to try it, though. He's not an asshole…Okay, he is an asshole. But he's not such an asshole that he'd plant one on someone when they're vulnerable like this. He doesn't know what's going on in Bucky's beleaguered head right now, but Tony would rather shut himself in the Raft than exploit it.

Instead, Tony keeps his eyes front and center, watching The Endless Exploits of The Cool Elf and His Dwarf Boyfriend, Some Humans and Too Many Hobbits. It's a good thing he's seen it before, because it's hard to concentrate on the plot with all his ignoble-yet-PG-rated _Bucky is my boyfriend_ fantasies unspooling in his head.

Bucky, for his part, slowly sinks into Tony, putting his head on his shoulder. It's nice. Cozy. Tony's kind of awed that Bucky's willing to trust him this much. Except Tony really doesn't want to be trapped on the couch if Bucky falls asleep.

"Uh, pumpkin? Honeybuck? Are you falling asleep on me, Sergeant?"

"M'name's Bucky," Bucky mumbles, but he pries his eyelids open and lifts his head, giving himself a quick shake. "Sorry." He rubs his eyes. "I just…I can sleep, if you're here." He smirks humorlessly. "Doesn't mean I should."

"It's all right," Tony says. "Seriously, I don't mind," he adds when Bucky looks at him incredulously. "It's just, I can't stay here all night. And you look like when you crash it's going to be for the long haul. Maybe you should go back to your place?"

Bucky tenses, instantly completely alert. He pulls away from Tony and clasps his hands in his lap, staring down at them. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should leave you alone. I got no business touching you." He swallows. "I don't know what my problem is, anyway. I should be used to it, being alone." He grimaces. "Steve put his hand on my shoulder, right before we went into the missile silo. That was the first time anyone touched me that wasn't painful or…or indifferent, since 1945."

It takes Tony a second to parse that, because the magnitude of what Bucky's talking about is staggering. "Wait. Let me make sure we're on the same horror-novel page, here. You're saying that before Steve's comradely broclap, no one had touched you nicely in _over seventy years?_ "

Bucky nods. "I should be used to it. Not…bein' hugged. Or anything. I mean, I'm not a kid anymore, right? And most of the time it's okay, anyway. I'm fine. Steve and I'll watch TV, and he'll sit next to me and I can put my arm around his shoulders. Or he'll do that for me, and that's good enough." He rubs his nose, still looking down. "But now, he's gone and…I can't sleep. I can't even stand being in his place, without him around. It just…." He shrugs helplessly. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Uh, nothing's wrong with you," Tony says.

"Right." Bucky snorts. "Everyone falls apart after not bein' touched for a couple fucking weeks."

"Maybe not," Tony concedes. "But, you know what you're talking about is a thing, right? As in a totally legitimate, normal human thing? No, I'm serious," he says, because Bucky still looks like Tony's talking out of his ass. "It's called 'skin hunger'. It's what happens when people don't get touched like this."

Bucky frowns. "This is real? I'm not just…."

"Weak?" Tony supplies, eyebrows arched. "Useless? Stupid?" He can tell by the way Bucky's mouth twitches that he's hit home. "Nope. You're human. A human who spent years starving for contact, from what you just said. Craving contact is normal, after you haven't had it for so long. You're not weak, Bucky," he says, hoping Bucky will actually hear him. "You're just like everyone else."

"Oh," Bucky says softly. He looks at Tony again. "It's really not…. It's normal? I'm not losing my mind over bullshit?"

"It's definitely not bullshit." Tony purposely scooches that much closer. His arm is still behind Bucky's back, and he manages to slide his hand under Bucky's tee-shirt, rubbing his warm skin. He knows it was a good idea when he can feel Bucky's inaudible sigh. "Have you told anyone about this?" he asks quietly. "Besides me, I mean. What about in Wakanda…?"

Bucky shakes his head. "It was okay, there. The doctors and technicians touched me. And they were real gentle. So it was good enough."

Well, that's something, Tony supposes, then he has a thought that's so awful he really doesn't want to ask it. "What about when you were on your own?"

Bucky shrugs, but his gaze is back on his hands, which tells Tony pretty much everything he needs to know. He remembers how rough Bucky looked on that little screen in Berlin, before Zemo fucked him over again: unkempt and haunted, and resigned in a way that Tony thought meant guilt at the time, but now settles in his stomach like lead.

"It was better than Hydra," Bucky says. "At least no one was hurting me."

Tony swallows. "That's a pretty low bar."

"Not really," Bucky says, which somehow makes it worse.

Silence settles after that, not quite companionable but not quite awkward either. Tony rubs Bucky's side, trying to watch the movie and not think of anything besides the exploits of the doomed Fellowship on the screen. Except every road in his head is leading to Afghanistan, or how long it's been since anyone hugged _him,_ or did more than shake his hand. How used Tony is to being alone, and how much he's always hated it.

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you," he says. It sounds so hopelessly inadequate that Tony can't help the humorless smirk. "I've been trying to find a way to say that without it sounding ridiculous for weeks. It's true, though. I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry. You never deserved that. I was angry and grieving and…and frustrated, and disappointed in myself and General Ross. Disappointed in the whole world, pretty much. But I took it out on you. The one actual victim in the whole thing." He swallows, can't help how his voice drops in self-recrimination. "I wanted you dead. I can't even believe it now, how I could've even thought that. But I did. I would've killed you. I don't want to know what kind of person that makes me."

Bucky rubs the back of his neck, leaves his hand there like a weight pulling him down. "The kind of person who found out I killed their mom."

Tony shakes his head. "Hydra killed my mom. That's the thing. It wasn't you. It wasn't your choice. They used you. If you hadn't been…available, they would've just used someone or something else. And I knew that. Steve told me. But I didn't care."

Bucky shrugs. "I still did it."

"Your body. Maybe." Tony's gaze is resolutely on the coffee table. It's a lot easier to say this without looking at Bucky's face. "Not your mind. I saw…" He takes a breath, has to wait out the ache in his throat. "I saw the video, right? I saw you hesitate when my dad said your name. But you weren't in control. Hydra was. I don't blame you anymore. I never really did. But I tried to kill you anyway. And I'm sorry."

"I wasn't mad at you," Bucky says softly. "I understood why you attacked me. What else were you gonna do?"

"Be a responsible adult?"

Bucky doesn't even react to that. "I was trying to protect Steve," he says. "That's why I ran when he said. Figured either you'd follow me, or if I wasn't there you'd stop fighting. But if it'd just been you and me…I don't know if I would've let you kill me or not. I wanted to live. But, not with everything I've done."

"You didn't do it," Tony says.

"But I remember all of them."

"Jesus," Tony says on a breath. He rubs his face with his free hand. "That was Hydra, not you. If I can figure that out, then you sure as hell should be able to."

"I want to," Bucky says. His head is still down, his hair hiding his face. "Everyone keeps saying it's not my fault. But…."

"But you remember them," Tony says.

Bucky nods.

Tony leans his head on Bucky's shoulder and wraps his free arm around him. "It'd probably be easier for you to accept it's not your fault if you weren't dead on your feet."

Bucky nods again, dully, then lifts his head with what seems like an effort. "Yeah. I'll…go back to Steve's floor. Maybe I'll be able to sleep now."

Tony doesn't miss the tiny hesitation in Bucky's voice, or the _maybe._ Somehow he doesn't think an hour of squishing together on the couch will have made up for two weeks of privation. He licks his lips, considering. This is probably a terrible idea. "How about you come to my floor instead?"

Bucky stares at Tony, baffled. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not propositioning you!" Tony says quickly, in case Bucky has the wrong idea. Not that Tony _wouldn't_ proposition him. He wants to, especially now that it turns out Bucky doesn't actually hate him. But this is so very, very much not the time. "Nothing like that. I'm just thinking that you need to sleep, but you can't sleep by yourself right now. And I have a very large bed, and I wouldn't mind a nap."

Bucky still looks baffled, but maybe hopefully-baffled, instead of just baffled-baffled. "You want to sleep with me?"

Tony knows exactly what Bucky really means, but he's fundamentally an asshole so he grins wickedly anyway. "Yes. Yes I do."

Poor Bucky's so tired that it takes him a couple seconds before he gets why Tony's smiling, and then his cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink. "Didn't mean it like that."

"I know," Tony says. He can even tell himself he's not the least bit disappointed.

* * *

Bucky carries Tony up to his penthouse. In fact, he barely lets go of him long enough to let them get ready for bed. And then as soon as they're under the covers, Bucky pulls Tony back into his arms. 

Tony will admit, reluctantly, that he's not the biggest guy around. That said, he has never been the little spoon in his life. But here he is, on his side with Bucky's chest to his back, with Bucky's arms around his waist and Bucky's left leg between his knees. Bucky's forehead is touching the back of Tony's head, his breath marking a warm rhythm on Tony's nape.

He's dead to the world, something which is both gratifying and problematic, since Tony's not really able to move. He's also having a bit of difficulty keeping his thoughts PG, considering how low Bucky's left hand is on his abdomen. They both stripped down to just boxers to sleep, and the ease of access, so to speak, isn't helping anything. At all.

On the other hand, there's something sweet and innocent about the dreamy way Bucky's fingers twitch on Tony's stomach, or the soft snuffles he makes in his sleep. Tony is a little surprised at how profoundly grateful he is, that Bucky can trust him this much. Even if it came from a combination of coincidence and necessity, Bucky could have refused Tony's offer to share his bed. But he didn't.

They are, Tony realizes, friends. Even if they're never anything else, it's more than Tony even hoped for.

He's grateful for it. And he'll still be grateful for it, even if he's stuck as Bucky's body pillow for the next twelve hours.

* * *

At some point Tony falls asleep without realizing it, because he opens his eyes and suddenly the room is dark, with the glow of the city shining through the windows.

Tony's on his back, unencumbered by a cuddly Super Soldier. For a second his heartbeat spikes, sure that Bucky's gone. But then he feels a touch on his arm, and when he turns his head Bucky's there, awake and silvered in the ambient light.

Tony rolls onto his side so they're facing each other. He moves closer, tugging the pillow with him, then splays his hand on Bucky's side. His bones are too sharp, but his skin is soft and warm. Tony runs his palm over the crests and valleys of Bucky's ribs, then up to his collarbones. Bucky is ethereal in the semidarkness. Hauntingly beautiful, like a ghost. Tony stops moving, in case this isn't welcome. But Bucky puts his hand on the scars on Tony's chest, over his heart. Granting permission.

In return. Tony trails his fingers back and forth over Bucky's shoulder, then follows the curve of his neck to cup his face.

They don't speak, just watch each other in the soft, unearthly darkness. Tony wonders if Bucky can feel the heavy, anticipatory thud of his heartbeat, wonders if he dares move close enough to kiss him. He wants Bucky, but there's no urgency here; more like an oddly comfortable ache. What Tony wants far more is to keep Bucky's trust, to let him feel safe. 

Bucky is the one who leans in and fits their mouths together.

The kiss is tentative at first: a chaste touch of lips as if he's expecting Tony to refuse. Then he makes a small, pleased huff when Tony immediately opens his mouth. Bucky kisses him languidly, like they have nothing but time. He slides the hand he has on Tony's chest to his back, then tugs him closer. Now they're touching from chest to groin. The solid heat of Bucky's erection nudges just under his own.

Tony pulls back when Bucky's hand settles over his ass, but only far enough to give him a peck on the nose. He thumbs Bucky's lower lip, unable to stop touching him. "I just need to be certain here. You really want this, right? It's not just you feeling like you owe me or something?"

Bucky blinks, then purposely grinds against him, smirking when Tony gasps. "That feel like I don't want it?"

"Just making sure," Tony pants, then groans when Bucky does it again. "I mean, a few hours ago, we thought there was mutual hatred going on."

Bucky rolls them both so that Tony's on his back with Bucky straddling him. "Never hated you." He kisses Tony again, and now it's full of promise. Bucky rolls his hips, making Tony buck against him, breath stuttering into his mouth. He can feel the curve of Bucky's smile before he lifts his head enough to speak. "In the missile silo, I finally saw your face when I was me, not the Soldier," he says. "In your armor like that…." He shakes his head, smiling in something like wondering admiration. "You looked like a knight right out of a fairy tale. I wanted to find out everything about you. But we had the mission, and then…." His smile twists. "I wish things had been different. I wish none of that ever happened."

"Me too," Tony says. He smooths his palms over Bucky's back and sides, enjoying how it makes him practically purr in contentment. "But, we're here. And we don't hate each other. And if we're making heartfelt declarations, then it's only fair to tell you that you were my first crush. Oh yeah." He nods when Bucky stares at him in amazement. "Captain America's tall, dark and gorgeous second in command? The badass, heroic, genius sniper who sacrificed himself for his best friend? I even watched the Saturday morning Howling Commando cartoons, that's how gone on you I was. And they were _bad._ "

Bucky laughs. "Clint keeps saying Steve and I have to see them."

"Yes you do. They're horrible."

Bucky laughs again, and then he flips onto his back, scooping Tony up into a full body hug. They're slowly getting tangled in the duvet. "Thank you. Thank you, Tony," he says, heartfelt.

"Hey, I get to be in your arms," Tony says. "Not exactly a hardship. Actually, it's the opposite of a hardship. It's a softship." He gets up on his elbows to smile down at Bucky, pleased with himself. "Being with you is a softship."

"Feeling pretty hard right now," Bucky says.

Tony blinks at him a couple times. "Never mind. I take it back."

Bucky's still laughing when Tony kisses him.

* * *

Steve wanders out of the elevator onto the common floor, carrying his duffel bag and yawning. He'd like to take a shower and go to bed, but J.A.R.V.I.S. said Bucky was here, so here Steve is.

He missed his best friend and wants to see him, but mostly Steve wants to make sure Bucky's all right. Bucky might've insisted he'd be perfectly fine before Steve left, but he's still very much the man he used to be—something Steve thanks God for, every day—and Steve knows his tells. Bucky was anxious and trying not so show it. He didn't want him to leave.

Steve didn't want to leave either. Bucky's a lot better than he was when they moved in, but he hasn't been alone since Sam and Steve found him. Steve was worried.

Right now, Steve's also a little worried because J.A.R.V.I.S. told him Tony was here too. The A.I. said everything was fine, but Steve would rather make sure for himself.

Steve has worked very hard to mend his and Tony's relationship after their catastrophic falling out during the Accords. He's done his best to be a better friend: Listening; not assuming he knows Tony's motivations; being kinder; accepting Tony's boundless generosity, because it hurts him so much when people don't.

And it worked. It's working. Tony doesn't act wary around Steve anymore, and he seems a little less shocked whenever Steve says something nice. Things are almost as easy as they used to be, and this time their friendship won't be marred by secrets and misunderstandings.

But Tony and Bucky have never been easy around each other. They don't spend time together. Steve's not even sure they've communicated since Bucky moved in. Neither of them can forgive themselves for what they did, so they're certain the other won't forgive them either. Steve's tried to convince them it's not true, but he hasn't had much luck.

And yet, here they are on the same floor, apparently hanging out together. It would be wonderful if Tony and Bucky could get along, but it's so unexpected that Steve can't help worrying. Especially when the living room is unnervingly quiet. All he can hear is the television.

Tony and Bucky are watching a cartoon that must be the _Captain America and His Howling Commandos_ one Clint keeps going on about. The alarmingly robust version of himself is giving a boost to Bucky, who's a child wearing a domino mask and the most conspicuous red and blue costume Steve's ever seen. The kid scrambles through a conveniently open window in the secret Hydra base, then Steve and the other Commandos—all dressed just as visibly—hunker down and sneak off screen.

The show is terrible. Hopefully Bucky and Tony won't mind watching it again from the beginning.

The back of the couch faces the elevator, so Steve knows Bucky's there only from his bare feet pointing up from the armrest. And despite what J.A.R.V.I.S. said, Tony weirdly doesn't seem to be there at all. Maybe he left while Steve was in the elevator?

Bucky didn't sit up when the elevator arrived, which probably means he's asleep. Steve's a little disappointed he won't be able to talk to him, but Bucky still doesn't sleep well. He can use all the rest he can get, so Steve creeps around to the front of the couch instead of waking him.

And there's Tony Stark, sprawled over Bucky like a blanket, with his head on Bucky's shoulder and his arms wrapped around his back.

Steve stands there blinking with his duffel dangling from his hand. Tony and Bucky are both fast asleep. Bucky's left arm is around Tony's back, the backs of his right fingertips curl gently on the floor. They look warm and wonderfully peaceful together.

There's also a deep red hickey on Bucky's collarbone, peeking out from the neck of his tee-shirt. And Steve recognizes the too big shirt Tony's wearing as one of Bucky's.

That's definitely unexpected.

It's good, though. Really, really good. Steve was hoping they might get along; Looks like they're getting along better than he'd could've imagined.

Grinning, his heart lighter than it's been for months, Steve silently sets his duffel down, then pulls a cushion off the love seat and carefully puts it on the floor. He sits cross-legged in front of the couch, then gently picks up Bucky's hand and holds it on his thigh. Bucky's fingers twitch and he sighs a little bit, but he doesn't waken.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., can you play the show again from the beginning, please?" Steve asks softly, settling in. He'd like a nap too, but right now there's nothing he'd rather do than watch a stupid 80s cartoon while his friends sleep.

The cartoon isn't just terrible, it's really boring. Steve ends up falling asleep too, with his head tipped back and his temple resting on Bucky's arm. Tony takes a still frame of J.A.R.V.I.S.'s video later, because it's too adorable not to keep.

He and Bucky hang it in their bedroom.

END

**Author's Note:**

> I feel I should apologize to [MarionRav](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarionRav), because Tony disses _The Lord of the Rings_. The author does not share the character's opinion.
> 
> * * *
> 
> [Imagine Tony and Bucky on Tumblr.](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [You don't have to imagine me, 'cause I'm on Tumblr too. :D](http://taste-is-sweet.tumblr.com/)


End file.
